


By Catnip and Marjoram

by TheMarvelousMadMadamMim



Series: This Spell We Cast [8]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Day 16, F/F, Free day, Lemon, TWW Valentines LemonFest 2019, in today's episode of Hecate Hardbroom is a cat, just fluffy porn basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 21:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17816183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim/pseuds/TheMarvelousMadMadamMim
Summary: Hecate gets creative in her attempts to get Ada's attention.For TWW Valentine Lemon!Fest.Day Sixteen Prompt: Free Day.





	By Catnip and Marjoram

It’s absolutely silent, save the occasional light flutter of a turning page and the low, steady purring of the two cats curled up at the end of the bed. Hecate Hardbroom takes a moment to simply absorb the comforting feeling, her chest filled with a quiet joy. It is so mundane, so incredibly, wonderfully mundane—her and Ada, propped up in bed, reading side by side. Separate, and together, alone but not lonely.

Thinking of Ada and the happiness she brings only makes Hecate crave more, only makes her want to make more joy with Ada, to give Ada that same sense of happiness in a thousand different ways. She tries to tamp down the feeling that ignites in her hips, tries to remind herself that she should let Ada enjoy her peaceful evening, she shouldn’t ruin the moment.

Her left hand slips across the covers, knuckles curling to lightly brush against Ada’s hip. Ada gives a small smile at the touch, not looking up from her reading.

See? Perfectly harmless. Ada isn’t disturbed in the slightest. Hecate tells herself that she is satisfied.

Hecate has told herself a lie. The simple warmth of Ada’s hip on the back of her hand isn’t enough. After a few beats, she merely shifts her entire body over, angling so that her left arm is slightly behind Ada’s right arm, their legs touching from hip to knee.

Ada shifts slightly to accommodate her, and they lapse back into their respective reading. Hecate’s left hand begins to trace little nonsensical patterns on Ada’s thigh, fingernails barely making contact.

Oh, she could so easily slip her hand further between Ada’s warm thighs, could pull up the edges of that nightdress, could bury herself so deeply in every aspect of the woman beside her, but she holds back. Ada’s still reading, Hecate shouldn’t disturb her.

Hecate shifts again, leaning her head on the blonde’s shoulder. Ada’s nightdress is soft, smells of her, comforting and familiar, and the heat in Hecate’s hips roils with renewed urgency, bubbling up to her breasts, which tighten with a heavy ache.

Still, she’s nothing if not polite. Never demanding, when it comes to Ada. It’s something she’s prided herself on for years, her self-restraint, her ability to deny her wants for the comfort of others.

Ada turns another page. See? Hecate hasn’t kept her from reading. All is well. Hecate shifts again, feigning a need to sit more comfortably. Her left breast rubs against Ada’s arm, the friction on her nipple sending a shower of sparks through her chest, and she holds back a small groan. It’s a miracle she hasn’t launched herself at the woman’s neck ( _which is so soft and so warm and smells of Ada’s perfume, Hecate knows, knows with a certainty that makes her teeth ache_ ). The heat between her legs surges and she forces herself to take a long, steadying breath.

She’s not going to do anything further, she tells herself. She’s going to read her _fascinating_ new potions journal and leave dear Ada in peace. She’s going to enjoy a quiet evening.

She squints and tries to redirect her focus. Then Ada turns the page again and gives a little sigh.

It is the sound that undoes Hecate’s resolve. She thinks of it in a different context, thinks of all the other sounds Ada could be making right now, thinks of the wetness between her thighs and how _wonderful_ Ada’s fingers would feel inside, strong and determined and filling Hecate’s entire being with sparks and light.

Still, she’s not going to engage in any such activity, not without Ada’s expressed and enthusiastic consent. And Ada is _very_ intent on her reading.

Hecate places her chin on Ada’s shoulder, casting a baleful glance over her lover's form. What she wouldn’t give to be that book, to have Ada’s hands all over her, Ada’s eyes on her, Ada’s undivided attention on her body. That’s when she notices the blush across Ada’s chest.

She almost gasps at the implication. Ada is just as affected as she is—and Ada is _continuing_ to ignore her. _On purpose_.

This does nothing to quell the heat building in her veins. If anything, it fuels the flames.

Their familiars stir and stretch at the foot of the bed, jumping down and padding to the door, where they look back at Hecate with expectant faces. It must be late enough that they can tear around the castle like madcaps, undisturbed. With a flick of her wrist, Hecate opens the door for them, closing it again once they’ve gone.

Her brain sparks with an idea. It’s ridiculous, but Ada won’t pay attention to her until she does something drastic ( _cruel, cruel, wicked woman_ ). Truth be told, Ada loves to tease and Hecate loves to be teased, but Hecate also likes to _win_ , and in this case winning is finally doing something that catches Ada off guard and finally breaks this pretense of obliviousness.

She sits up fully, maneuvering in the bed so that her upper body slides into Ada’s lap.

Ada looks down in shock, lifting her book higher overhead to take in the woman currently splayed across her thighs (she’s relatively certain that Hecate just magicked herself into a push-up bra, because her breasts are…very much on display).

“Good book?” Hecate asks innocently, face lined with interest.

Ada laughs at her poor attempts at nonchalance. She hums, “It’s quite engaging.”

She uses magic to hold her book aloft, leaving her hands free for other things. Honestly, she has been well-aware of the signals her lover has been sending, but she can’t deny that sometimes she enjoys being a tease. Frustrated Hecate is often a fun playmate, and she’s always sure to make up for any aggravation she may cause later on. Her left hand strokes Hecate’s hair, her right hand slipping to massage Hecate’s breast. She gives a small smile at the sound her simple touch evokes. The relief and the need and the desire burbling in Hecate’s throat is enough to set her own skin aflame, but she continues reading her book, keeping her touches light and distracted.

Hecate is arching into Ada’s touch, the heat in her core beginning to tighten and twist with uncomfortable tension. She lets out a small whine, and Ada’s secret smile informs her that she’s understood the complaint. Without preamble, she vanishes Hecate’s nightdress (it _was_ a pushup bra, she was right), right hand slowly palming down the length of Hecate’s stomach, a softness taut with longing underneath.

Her hand continues moving further down, though she keeps it over the lace of Hecate’s underwear (a small growl of discontent comes from that action, and she tries not to laugh). Still, she slips between Hecate’s thighs, which open eagerly—they tighten involuntarily again when Ada grinds the heel of her hand into Hecate, earning a gasp that devolves into a full-throated moan. Even through the fabric, she can feel how soaked Hecate is, and she bites her lip in anticipation.

Hecate has long passed the point of restraint. She’s arching her back, pushing harder against Ada’s hand, giving small huffs of frustration with every roll of her hips. She knows how Ada loves seeing her like this, seeing and hearing her lose control, and she performs for the blonde, desperate for her full attention.

Ada Cackle has not looked down from her book at all. Hecate fights the urge to scream, even though she knows it’s part of the game, part of the teasing, part of the buildup that will result in a white-hot mind-blowing release. So she gives in to the feeling, the frustration bubbling in her chest, which recedes with every roll of her hips and reverbs with ferocity when the small flash of relief is gone. Her head is tilted back, the angle she's lying at giving her a light flutter of blood rush that only heightens the sensations and tightens the tension.

And then Ada’s book disappears, along with her glasses. Hecate’s entire body lights up with relief. _Soon, soon, soon…oh, yes, soon…._

Ada is pulling Hecate upright, pulling her into her lap, placing kisses atop her breasts, fingertips trailing up and down Hecate’s spine and sending shivers through her ribcage again. Hecate tilts her head to the ceiling, slipping her fingers into Ada’s hair and fighting against another urge to scream because it’s too much and not enough and oh her entire body is shaking, gasping and needy and completely out of control, thrumming with pride because she knows this is exactly how Ada wants her, exactly how Ada loves her, when she is both her most powerless and most powerful. The bra disappears and before she can even fully register the fact, Ada’s teeth are on her nipple, the sudden shock making her cry out as her thighs quake and her hands slap onto the metal frame of the headboard, desperately searching for an anchor. Fire shoots across her skin from the site of Ada’s mouth, and her body feels tighter, heavier, so close to simply exploding into oblivion. Ada’s hands are on her hips again, holding her steady. She feels Ada slipping further down, tries to make her body counter Ada’s movements, but she’s shaking like a leaf, like some kind of strung-out fiend desperate for a fix. Ada’s hands are guiding her, helping her body move so that Ada is beneath her, blue eyes watching from between her quivering thighs in a mixture of adoration and delight.

Hecate’s grip on the bedframe is so tight that her palms sing from the pressure, but it’s the only sensation keeping her from crumbling entirely. She can hear herself, her ragged breaths so heavy and filled with frenetic need that it sounds foreign to her ears. Ada’s arms reach around the backs of her thighs, hands pull at her hips and in a flash, Hecate’s underwear are gone. That simple act and its implications has her choking back a sob of relief.

But Ada doesn’t touch her, not where she needs it. Hecate’s voice is as ragged as her nerves, quick and harsh, “Ada Cackle, I swear upon all that is good and sacred, if you don’t just—”

Her words are cut off by her own surprised yelp at the sensation of Ada’s tongue pushing as deeply inside her as possible, hot and insistent. She tries to keep her hips from bucking, and thankfully Ada has a good grip on her as well, because Hecate’s not sure she has much ability to control her own body at this point. Ada’s tongue is as quick and determined as its owner, teasing Hecate’s core before moving further up to the bundle of nerves that are almost painful in their need for release.

It doesn’t take long for Hecate to shudder, another rush of wet heat and a cry that could bring the walls down around them (thank heavens for silencing spells). Her eyes are clenching as tightly as her thighs, white sparks shooting across the darkness, her entire body shattering in a thousand different directions, the reassuring weight of Ada’s hands still holding some small part of her together. Ada slows the strokes of her tongue, lazy circles teasing around the edges of her clit but leaving the sensitive area from direct contact. It takes every last ounce of Hecate’s energy and willpower to gingerly pull herself away, rolling onto the mattress beside Ada.

Ada rolls to her side, leaning in to place kisses, from the joint of Hecate’s shoulder to her collarbone, slipping further down to nip tenderly at the softness of her left breast. Hecate’s muscles still twitch in aftershocks, her breathing still trying to find its usual pace. Ada only touches her with the lightest of grazes, doesn’t overstimulate the body that has been absolutely wrecked by her ministrations in the best of ways. Hecate’s heart tumbles into another wave of warm adoration.

“I can’t believe you flopped into my lap, like an actual cat,” Ada finally speaks, once she’s sure that Hecate is relatively back to earth.

The younger woman gives a small chuckle. “One does what one must, Ada Cackle. Besides, it seemed to be rather effective.”

Ada merely grins devilishly in return. “I assure you, my dear, I would have fucked you senseless, regardless.”

Hecate smiles as well, a syrupy smile, half-asleep, half-drugged by love and good sex. Her hand lazily reaches up to play with the ends of Ada’s blonde bob. “I love you, you terrible, terrible tease.”

“I love you, too, kitten.”

Hecate gives a small growl of disapproval at the name, but she’s too exhausted to properly argue. She lets Ada redress her with a wave of her wrist, then rolls onto her side to drift into sated sleep.

With a smile, Ada settles back against the pillows, recalling her book and her glasses into her hands. She’s going to have re-read the entire last chapter—she can’t remember a thing, too caught up in Hecate’s absolutely obvious attempts to be coy and unencroaching.

To be honest, Hecate’s entire series of attempts to fight her urges only made Ada love her more. And it fills her with giddy delight, knowing that something in her is irresistible to this woman, this woman who stops her heart with a single glance and who has never failed in her ability to amaze and surprise, even after all this time.

She finishes the chapter and starts the next when Hecate shifts slightly, glancing over her shoulder with an adorably quizzical expression. “You’re still reading?”

“I told you, Hecate, it’s a very engaging book.”

This earns her a harrumph of disagreement. And before Ada can say anything, her partner is rolling over, right arm flopping across her lap, dark eyes looking up with unmistakable intent. “Read to me.”

Ada already knows exactly where this is going, but still, she clears her throat slightly and begins reading aloud. Hecate’s entire body has slipped closer, warm hands pushing Ada’s thighs open wider, trilling fingertips and a devilish smile that catches every reaction Ada has to these little teases and touches.

Ada is fairly certain that she’ll have to re-read this chapter again, too.

In the morning, though.


End file.
